


You're not even in the same room as the line

by lezlemon



Category: Scott & Bailey
Genre: Awkward Romance, Brief mention of past harassment at MIT, Confessions, Everyone is embarrassed about everything, F/F, Gill Murray (mentioned), Rach is a hot mess, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:34:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26966764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lezlemon/pseuds/lezlemon
Summary: In which Rachel has plumbing problems so she has to stay at Julie's place for the night.I'm not 100% sure what this ship is or where this idea came from, and it feels a *little* like I'm cheating on Gill/Julie, but I had a ton of fun writing it! Hope you enjoy :)
Relationships: Rachel Bailey/Julie Dodson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 19





	You're not even in the same room as the line

Rachel Bailey swallowed nervously. Of _course_ , Julie Dodson was one of those people who felt comfortable changing in front of guests. Rachel hadn’t taken that particular detail into consideration when she’d accepted Julie’s offer of a place to stay while her flat underwent some plumbing repairs. 

She’d had her trepidations about Julie’s offer, of course; who wouldn’t feel a little awkward about the prospect of a few nights at the boss’s house? In the end, though, the practical arguments had overwhelmed any feelings of self-consciousness: Rachel did not fancy the extra hour of driving that’d be necessary if she were to stay with her sister. She was sleep-deprived enough as it was. Plus, her sister’s kids drove her up the wall. 

So, she’d said yes.

Now, though, she was revisiting that decision. She’d been sitting on the sofa, sipping on a glass of very expensive cabernet (there were definitely some perks to this arrangement) and reading through her texts when she’d heard Julie calling her name from upstairs. She’d walked around the corner and stopped short. There was Julie at the top of the stairs. And she was not wearing pants. 

“Red or green?” Julie asked, holding up a couple of toothbrushes. The movement caused her work shirt to shift, drawing Rachel’s attention to the fact that it was not buttoned. At all.

“Um.” Rachel cleared her throat and tried very hard to figure out where to look. Meeting Julie’s gaze wasn’t an option; she was sure her face would betray something. But then again, there wasn’t really anywhere else safe to look. Her eyes lingered on Julie’s torso, which was bare between the flaps of her shirt save for a dark green bra. Rachel registered briefly that the bra was the same color as one of Julie’s work shirts before she realized she was staring at her supervisor’s chest and she really needed to look somewhere else, anywhere else—

“Rachel?”

“Oh! Um, sorry, I just didn’t expect—um. Green. _No._ Red?” Rachel could definitely feel herself turning red. So much for not betraying anything. _Why wasn’t Julie wearing pants_?! Julie tossed her the red toothbrush and Rachel somehow managed to catch it.

“Didn’t take you for the sheepish type,” Julie said, smirking a little as she turned away. “Sorry, I’ll make myself decent.”

“No, that’s—um.” Rachel slapped her free hand over her eyes as Julie disappeared into her bedroom. She needed to get a grip. Sure, her boss wasn’t wearing pants. Rachel had seen plenty of bare legs before. What was the big deal, really? It wasn’t so different from changing in the locker rooms at the precinct back when she was a street cop. _You weren’t looking at just her legs, though, were you?_

“Shut up,” Rachel muttered to herself as she walked back to the living room. She flopped back down onto the sofa, rubbing her eyes and groaning. She really needed to get the image of Julie’s near-bare chest out of her mind before she came back into the room. 

There was a hitch, though, Rachel realized with a self-indulgent smirk. She didn’t actually want to forget that image. Rachel licked her lips absentmindedly and reached for her phone. This was getting out of hand. She’d text Janet and get some distraction.  
…  
Rachel: How’re the girls?

Janet: What did Dodson do?

Rachel: How do ya mean?

Janet: “How’re the girls?” You never ask about the girls.

Rachel: I care about the girls!

Janet: Right. The girls are good. Now spill!

Rachel: She’s walking around the house half naked

Janet: Ah.  
Janet: I mean, it is her house…?

Rachel: Yes, but, she’s not alone in that house right now, is she?  
Rachel: Can’t we ever just have a normal boss???

Janet: And by normal boss I take it you mean one you’re not hopelessly attracted to?

Rachel: JANET SCOTT. NO.

Janet: Hey, a detective can’t help but figure things out, can she? Especially when her BFF is an absolutely open book???

Rachel: A detective can be wrong

Janet: Hmmmm. She can be wrong, that’s true.  
Janet: She can also notice things like, say, a friend’s habit of touching her lip when a certain DSI has just sauntered out of the room in a pair of particularly tall and wicked red heels…

Rachel: Wow I did not need that image right now thank you so much  
Rachel: I thought friends were supposed to be helpful???

Janet: a-HA! so you admit it!

Rachel: Yes, fine, you got me  
Rachel: Now stop making fun of me and distract me!!!

Janet: HA! I KNEW IT! HOT FOR TEACHER!

Rachel: NOT helpful Janet!!!

Janet: ok, ok, sorry. I’ll be helpful. Want to hear about my date?

Rachel: too late! She’s coming!  
…

Rachel threw her phone into her bag, and then immediately wondered why she had done that. It’s not like she wasn’t allowed to text. She reached down and grabbed her phone again, forcing herself to slow down and act like a normal person. So much for Janet helping; if anything, Rachel’s cheeks felt warmer now than they had before, and her heart rate was through the roof. 

Rachel heard glass clinking in the kitchen, and she took a few breaths to steady herself. She’d had hundreds of perfectly respectable conversations with Julie at work—surely, they could manage at least one now. 

A moment later, Julie walked into the room with the bottle of wine in her hand, an empty glass slung between her fingers, and a book under her arm. Mercifully, she had thrown on a bathrobe (and actually tied the front); Rachel held back a sigh of relief. Maybe she could manage to avoid gawping for the rest of the evening.

“Guest room should be all set for you when you’re ready for it. There’s a towel for you in the loo as well. More?” Julie tilted her head in the direction of Rachel’s empty glass.

“Um. No, thank you.” 

“Suit yourself,” Julie said, pouring herself a glass and sitting down at the end of the couch opposite Rachel. “But don’t hold back on my account. The boss hat is off.” Julie mimed taking off a cap then took a long pull of wine.

 _That and the boss pants._ Rachel smiled down into her lap, worrying at the button on her shirt sleeve to distract from the sudden and powerful urge to giggle. 

“What?” Julie asked.

Rachel glanced up to find Julie looking at her inquiringly over her glasses, one eyebrow slightly raised. _Caught._ Rachel was forcibly reminded of Janet’s earlier text: _Hot for teacher._ Janet was going to pay for that tomorrow. 

Maybe Rachel was hot for teacher, but the bathrobe kind of softened the stern teacher image. Rachel smirked, feeling suddenly brave. “Just trying not to laugh at you for that ‘boss hat’ comment.” 

Julie laughed. It was an open and refreshing sound, and Rachel decided she quite liked being the cause of it.

“Careful, or I’ll put the boss hat back on,” Julie said, raising her wine glass to her lips.

Rachel smiled wide. “As long as the boss pants stay on, you do what you like.”

Julie spluttered into her wine. “Um, yeah,” she said, clearing her throat and reaching for a napkin. “Sorry about that. Forget some people are modest.” Was that a blush rising on her neck? 

“It’s alright,” Rachel said. Her eyes followed Julie’s movements as she dabbed wine off her cheek and then leaned over to place the napkin on the coffee table. She had definitely gone a bit pink, Rachel noticed with some satisfaction. “Just took me a little by surprise, is all,” Rachel finished.

Julie grimaced. “Hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” she said as she settled back into her seat, a rather worried look in her eyes. 

“Nah,” Rachel said. She shot Julie a playful smile, and Julie relaxed.

“Telly?” Julie asked, holding up the remote.

“Sure,” Rachel said with a grin.

Julie turned on the TV and flicked through the channels until she landed on what looked to be an American police procedural. She glanced over at Rachel, an inquiring eyebrow raised.

They locked eyes and shared a knowing look; police shows were always a bit ridiculous.

“Yeah, go on then,” Rachel said, snickering.

Julie smirked as she tucked her chin down to squint at the remote. Once she’d adjusted the volume to an appropriate level, she leaned to flick off the lights, casting the pair of them into relative darkness. 

The motion caused her bathrobe to slip precariously toward the edge of her shoulder, and Rachel found her eyes helplessly drawn to the bared skin. She briefly imagined what it would be like to slide a hand across Julie’s soft skin and slip the bathrobe the rest of the way off her shoulder, to press gentle kisses—

A loud gunshot rang out on the TV, and Rachel started, whipping her head straight to look at the TV. She could feel a blush rising across her cheeks, and she closed her eyes briefly in embarrassment. After a moment, she chanced a glance at Julie. She appeared to be very absorbed in the process of tucking her feet under her on the couch. Rachel started to breathe a sigh of relief—maybe Julie hadn’t witnessed that cringeworthy series of events—before she clocked the expression on Julie’s face. The corners of her mouth were turned down in what was evidently a valiant attempt to suppress a smile. _Oh no._ Julie met her gaze.

“Are you always this jumpy?” she asked, mirth written around her eyes.

“Might’ve had a little more coffee than usual,” Rachel improvised breathlessly. “Thought I’d need it, what with having to keep up with you this evening.”

Julie laughed, and the smile she had been suppressing flooded across her face. Rachel felt a mirroring grin blossom on her own face. 

“You make me sound like quite the party animal,” Julie chortled, turning her attention back to the TV.

Rachel tried to follow suit, but it was hard to focus; the program really was quite awful. After ten minutes or so, she had completely given up on caring about the thin plot, and instead gave herself over to sneaking looks at Julie in the darkness. She was still sitting with her long legs curled up under her, an elbow propped on the arm of the couch, her head resting in her hand. 

Rachel’s eyes lingered on her face. Julie’s brow was softly creased in concentration, and she was worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth. She looked almost sorrowful in the low light of the TV. 

Julie chuckled at something on the program, and Rachel forced her gaze front again. After another brief attempt to watch the show, she found her mind wandering back to that expression on Julie’s face. Was she sad about something?

Rachel realized with a pang that she really knew nothing about Julie’s life. Sure, she knew her in that transient way that all coworkers know each other: her mannerisms, her style of leading a meeting, what she liked to eat for lunch, maybe a handful of her pet peeves. And she knew that stuff quite well, since, truthfully, she’d probably paid more attention to Julie than was typical for a supervisor-subordinate relationship.

But her curiosity had always stopped at the office door. It had never occurred to her to wonder who Julie spent time with outside of work (aside from Gill, of course), or what her hobbies were, or what tragedies she might have endured in her decades of life.

“Earth to Rachel,” Julie said, breaking her reverie. The program had obviously ended without Rachel’s notice.

She realized with a lurch of panic that she had been staring at Julie and, worse, had been absentmindedly running a finger over her bottom lip. She quickly dropped her hand into her lap and sat up straight, eyes wide. _Shit._

“Sorry?” Rachel asked. She could feel warmth washing over her face yet again. “Did you—did you say something?” 

“Just asked if you thought that program was as shit as I thought it was.” Julie was looking at Rachel with a little more curiosity than she felt entirely comfortable with.

“Oh,” Rachel said, clearing her throat. “Yeah, definitely. Pretty shit.” She flashed Julie what she hoped was a winning smile, but which felt false as it crossed her lips. She swallowed nervously. Help.

Julie smiled softly. “Do I make you nervous?” She asked, reaching for the wine bottle.

Rachel cleared her throat. “Um. A bit,” she said, smoothing imaginary wrinkles out of her work pants.

Julie pulled the cork and poured another small splash of wine into her glass. She tilted the bottle toward Rachel, a questioning look in her eyes. Rachel shook her head; she was worried what might slip out of her mouth if she indulged any further.

“Why?” Julie asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do I make you nervous?”

“Oh,” Rachel said, releasing a nervous breath. “Um. You’re my boss?”

“Right,” Julie said. There was a pause as she set the bottle carefully back on the coaster on the coffee table. Then, planted on the edge of the couch, full glass of wine slung in hand, Julie fixed Rachel with a look. Not a fierce look; no, the expression on her face was surprisingly gentle, tender even, with one eyebrow just slightly raised in doubt. 

Rachel felt disarmed by this unexpected softness, and she could feel a half-confession trying to spill from her lips. Time to steer the conversation somewhere else, quickly, before she blew it. She could practically see the cogs in Julie’s mind turning.

“So, um, what are you reading?” Rachel asked, a little too loud, just as Julie’s mouth opened to ask something else. (Rachel shuddered to think what.) As an afterthought, Rachel gestured unnecessarily to the paperback that was laying abandoned on the couch in between them.

Julie closed her mouth and leaned back into her seat, a knowing smirk playing at her lips. 

“See for yourself,” she said, reaching for the book and tossing it so that it landed against Rachel’s leg. Rachel picked it up and inspected it. It was a small yellow paperback with thin green vines drawn as if they were growing across the cover.

“ _Annihilation_ , by Jeff Vandermeer,” Rachel read, exaggerating the syllables of the last name. “Sounds grim.”

“Couldn’t tell you. Haven’t actually started it.” Julie smiled ruefully. “Hard to find time to read.”

“I know what that’s like,” Rachel said, leafing through to the first page of the book. It did look a bit ominous; the first chapter was called ‘Initiation.’

“Didn’t peg you as the reading type,” Julie said. “Thought you mostly spent your nights off down the pub.”

Rachel flushed. The first time she’d met Julie, she’d been very hungover. Among other things. It wasn’t a fond memory. “I like books,” she said, a little defensively.

“Sorry,” Julie grimaced. “’Course you do.”

Rachel was a little surprised to see that Julie did indeed look sorry. She was still getting used to this at-home version of Julie, who was a quite a bit softer and friendlier (if less clothed) than the Julie she usually encountered at work. “It’s okay,” Rachel said. “I have been known to, um, indulge.” 

Julie gave her a sideways glance, then looked back to her wine, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. 

“What?” Rachel asked.

Julie placed the wine glass down on the side table and leaned back, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Have you heard what they call you?” she asked, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Um. Sherlock?”

Julie chuckled again. “Nah, that’s just Gill.” She tapped her fingers on her arm, smiling a bit evilly.

“Well?” Rachel demanded.

“It’s not just you. Janet’s part of it, too,” Julie continued.

“Sorry, part of what?”

“Well, you and Janet have gotten yourselves a bit of a reputation from one or two of your, er, nights out,” Julie explained. She appeared to be suppressing a laugh.

Rachel met her eyes nervously. “Have we?”

“Yeah, you’ve got yourself a bit of a nickname, kid.”

Rachel felt a strange swoop at Julie’s use of Gill’s old nickname for her. She shoved that aside. “And?”

“Well, Janet’s ‘Scotch,” Julie began, pausing when she caught sight of Rachel’s arched eyebrow. “And—well, you’re ‘Bailey’s,” Julie finished, laughter in her eyes as she took in Rachel’s reaction.

Rachel set her wine glass down a little more forcefully than strictly necessary. “Sorry, but, _Bailey’s_? Like the _liqueur_?” she asked, indignant. 

“Yep.”

“I _hate_ liqueurs.” Rachel knew she probably looked like a petulant child, but she just couldn’t keep her lip from curling.

Julie raised her shoulders in a would-be nonchalant shrug, but her eyes gave her away: they were positively sparkling with mischief. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. Although…” she trailed off, grinning down into her wine.

“What?” Rachel demanded. 

“Well, I’d have thought you’d have liked liqueurs. Don’t you take, what, like twelve sugars in your coffee?” Julie asked, blinking at Rachel innocently over the rim of her wine glass as she took a sip.

“Six,” Rachel corrected, before realizing she was incriminating herself. She closed her eyes in a brief acknowledgement of her embarrassment.

Julie chuckled, settling the glass in her lap again. “But you don’t like liqueurs?”

“Nah,” Rachel shuddered. “Bad memories.”

“Mm. Now that I can understand,” Julie said, nodding knowingly. “I mean, hypothetically, of course,” she added with a wink.

Rachel leaned forward, a delighted grin on her face. “Oh?”

Julie smiled at her mysteriously, but then stood up abruptly.

“Might be time to call it a night,” Julie said with a wink.

“Come on, you can’t say something like that and just leave me hanging!” Rachel exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

“There’s not much else to say,” Julie chuckled, extending a hand for Rachel’s wine glass. “Just a few too many nights out on the town with Gill. You know, back when we were young and beautiful,” she added with a flourish.

 _You’re still beautiful_ , Rachel thought to herself, handing Julie her empty glass. When Julie didn’t take the glass from her, Rachel looked up in confusion. She was surprised to find Julie staring at her, a slightly incredulous smile pulling at her lips.

“Well, thank you,” she said, taking the glass from Rachel’s outstretched hand and laughing uncertainly at the dumbstruck expression on her face. 

Finally, the pieces clunked into place in Rachel’s mind.

“Ah,” she breathed. _You’re still beautiful._ She hadn’t just thought those last three words, she’d said them. Out loud. To DSI Julie Dodson. If Rachel had still been holding her glass, she probably would have dropped it. Now Rachel wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, empty as they were.

“S-sorry,” she stuttered. “Didn’t, um…” Rachel gestured vaguely.

“That’s alright,” Julie said, lifting an eyebrow slightly. She slid Rachel’s glass from one hand to the other, where it clinked softly against her own empty glass. She turned away, collecting the wine bottle off the coffee table with her free hand before disappearing into the kitchen.

Rachel could hear clinking followed by the sound of the tap coming on. She dropped her head into her hands. She’d really fucked up this time. Why couldn’t she ever manage to draw the line between the personal and the professional?

She pressed her fingers into her temples as a wave of shame washed over her. She hadn’t just brought her personal life to work this time; she’d dragged _Julie_ – her _boss_ – into it. And now Julie had left the room. Had Rachel offended her? She felt her stomach drop. Had that been _harassment_?

Soft footfalls alerted Rachel to Julie’s return. She lifted her head out of her hands and looked at Julie, who was drying her hands on the kitchen towel as she walked across the living room. She slung the towel over her shoulder as she eased down opposite Rachel on the couch. 

Rachel let her hands fall to her lap and tried desperately to school her expression into something like ease, but she could tell immediately from the concern in Julie’s expression that she had failed.

“Are you alright?” Julie asked. 

“Um,” Rachel started, looking away. She couldn’t seem to keep her hands from shaking. “’Course.” 

“What’s wrong?” Julie asked, clearly not convinced.

“What I said before,” Rachel began, pinching at the bridge of her nose and scrunching her eyes shut. “I—I didn’t mean that.”

“I’ll not take that personally,” Julie said drily.

“Sorry,” Rachel said, sliding her hands over her eyes. “That’s not what I meant. It’s not that I don’t think you’re—,” Rachel cleared her throat. “Um. I just—I’m worried I’ve crossed a line.” 

Julie didn’t immediately respond. After a few moments, Rachel peered through her fingers at her. She was surprised to see that Julie was evidently trying not to laugh. “What?” Rachel asked.

“Kid, I came up through MIT in the 80’s. You’re not even in the same room as the line.” Her eyes were smiling. “Trust me, I would know.”

“Really?” Rachel asked hopefully. “I didn’t—offend you?”

“Nah,” Julie said, smiling.

Rachel flopped back into the couch, releasing a breath she hadn’t noticed she’d even been holding. “That’s good,” she said. “You’re the last—well, just, I wouldn’t want to offend you.”

Julie tucked a leg under her body and turned to face Rachel on the sofa, a calculating look on her face. “Is this why you were so flustered earlier? Are you interested in me?” 

“Um,” Rachel gulped, rather taken aback by Julie’s bluntness. She supposed it shouldn’t be such a surprise; Julie had been a Tier 5 interviewer before she rose in the ranks, after all. But Rachel wasn’t used to having such tactics turned on her.

Julie seemed to realize she’d slipped into interview mode. She held her hand up. “Sorry. Forget I asked.”

“That’s okay,” Rachel said, breathless. She slid her hands onto the couch on either side of her legs, bracing herself on the edge of the seat. She needed to change the subject. “Um. What did you mean, ‘you would know’ about the line?”

Julie looked confused. “Oh,” she said after a second. She grimaced. “You know. Lots of blokes confusing a collegiate smile with an invitation.”

Rachel scrunched her face in distaste. “That’s shit.”

Julie smiled ruefully at her. “Yeah.” 

Rachel smiled gently back. 

After a moment, Julie let out a deep breath and clapped her hands onto her thighs. “Well,” she said with finality. “I have got to get to bed or I am going to be absolutely useless at work tomorrow."

“Right,” said Rachel, hastily uncrossing her legs and standing up, a little taken aback. She pulled her phone from her pocket and was surprised to find that it was after midnight; she’d stopped thinking about the time hours ago. Thank goodness tomorrow was Friday.

Julie rose too, stretching subtly and reaching for her book. She made her way around the room shutting off lights, then disappeared into the kitchen. After a moment she reappeared. Based on the mildly surprised expression on her face, Julie hadn’t expected Rachel to wait for her. 

Rachel felt herself go a little pink. It wasn’t really in character for her to wait around for instructions, but somehow this night felt like it was lacking closure. She guessed she was hoping Julie might have something else to say. How was she acting so normal? Hadn’t this conversation rattled her, too?

Evidently not. Julie just inclined her head toward the stairs before walking toward them herself. Rachel followed suit, sagging a little. She felt disappointed, and with that feeling came a wave of exhaustion. She dragged her hand along the banister as she trudged up the stairs, staring down at the hardwood flooring. 

As such, she almost ran into Julie at the top of the stairs, who had stopped and turned around, facing Rachel on the landing.

“Sorry,” Julie said. She looked uncharacteristically flustered. “Was that—was it rude of me, ending the conversation like that?”

“Um,” Rachel swallowed, a bit overwhelmed. “No. Well, maybe. I dunno.”

Julie grimaced, then halfway lifted a hand to Rachel’s shoulder before evidently thinking better of it, letting her hand fall loosely to her side. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure what to say.” She worried at her lip for a moment, furrowing her brow at Rachel. “And I guess I was worried if we kept talking that you might say something you couldn’t take back.”

Rachel laughed darkly. “I think I already did.”

Julie smiled weakly. “Yeah, maybe,” she said, reaching to rest her hand on the bannister. It would have seemed casual except that the bannister was just a little too far away so that Julie had to lean awkwardly to reach it. “I guess I was also worried I might say something I couldn’t take back.”

Rachel stared at her. She had turned bright red and was tapping her fingers on the banister. After a moment she seemed to catch sight of her own hand tapping, and she abruptly stilled her fingers.

Rachel was surprised to feel a giggle bubbling out of her. 

Julie looked at her sharply. “What?”

Rachel covered her mouth. “Nothing.”

“No, really, what is it?” Julie insisted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“It’s nothing,” Rachel said again. Julie shot her a disbelieving look, so Rachel continued. “It’s just, well, you look like you’re about to—pass out.” Rachel made a last-minute decision to not say the slightly more colorful thing she’d been thinking.

“I what?” Julie asked, indignantly.

“I’ve just—I’ve never seen you look so nervous,” Rachel said with a giggle.

“Well, what of it?” Julie asked, a bit defensively.

Rachel suppressed a laugh. “Nothing…it’s just—well, it’s just a bit endearing,” she ventured, twirling her fingers in her hair and biting her lip. She knew she probably looked absurdly coquettish, but she just couldn’t resist messing with Julie.

Julie covered her face with a hand and quickly turned toward her bedroom. “To bed with you,” she said to the door, pointing down the hall toward the guest room with her other arm.

“’Kay, boss,” Rachel said to Julie’s back with a smirk. She stood there and watched as Julie pulled the door closed, her face glowing a lovely pink color in embarrassment.

Rachel rolled her eyes, but she caught herself running a finger over her lip again as she walked down the hall to the guest room. She flopped on her back on the bed, fully clothed, and stared at the ceiling. The image of Julie’s eyes, brow furrowed in tender concern, floated across her mind, and she felt her heart leap.

“Night, beautiful,” she muttered to the ceiling and then immediately grimaced. What was she doing? _Go to sleep, you idiot._


End file.
